


For Our Humanity

by butterflycell



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflycell/pseuds/butterflycell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Had Jim asked Bones for his opinion and conclusion in person, it would've sounded more like: </p>
<p><i>Dammit Jim, we have a problem in our house, and it's those elitist, self-entitled shits. Our cadets are suffering, and it's the ones who most need our help.</i>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Our Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> Set roughly 8 years after the end of ST:ID, and Jim is part of ushering a new era for Starfleet.

Something insidious had started to creep through the cadets, a divide between them that felt far too much like something dangerous. Jim could see glimpses of it on a daily basis, moving between classes to teach and committees to sit on. He heard it in snippets of careless conversation, saw it in the tension on faces in the crowd.

For the most part, it sat beneath the other, more understandable divides. The cultural diversity of the cadet population was one of their strongest traits. In the wake of the destruction of Vulcan, the near destruction of Earth and the instability and threats of war that had lingered over the last decade, Starfleet had seen itself change. More of their cadets came from other planets, more came from different backgrounds.

Vulcan had been a turning point for the entire 'fleet. They had to change their ways or risk extinction in the wake of losing eighty percent of their graduating class and existing force. Admiral Marcus' betrayal had been the last straw.

After Khan's destruction of the captaincy, officers were called out of retirement left, right and centre, creating a new Admiralty with different ideals. They shifted focus towards the need for variety amongst their ranks, for fresh ideas and mentalities, to keep Starfleet strong and moving forwards. The universe around them was changing, so they needed to follow suit.

Jim was all for it, had seen the benefits of the new council bleeding through in the five year mission. When he'd curled around Bones in their bed on the Enterprise and promised him the sun on his skin and terra beneath his feet, he'd happily accepted the council's proposal for him to take over his mother's seat. She had been instrumental to the evolution taking place, and he was proud to follow in her footsteps.

He knew things weren't perfect, that there was still a lot of work to be done on attitudes of the public, but seeing the extent of some of that was worrying. Even after all the planet had been through, and everything Starfleet had done, both good _and_ bad, the elitist terran population was becoming worse than it had ever been in Jim and Bones' day.

Still, he didn't realise the extent of the problem until he was called to Bones' office at Starfleet Medical.

“Commodore McCoy, what can I do for you today?” He grinned across the room, but it dropped almost immediately. This wasn't a courtesy call. He took the seat across the desk and assessed the situation.

“Jim, we have a problem.” Bones handed him a PADD and leaned back in his chair. Jim said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “The head of psychiatry has escalated concerns to me, and that report covers my investigation.”

Jim met Bones' eyes for a moment. His brows were drawn in concern, mouth twisted unhappily. He'd been working longer hours for the past few weeks, was generally more tired, but he hadn't mentioned anything being off. He may have been holding onto him a little tighter at night than normal, but Jim hadn't thought to complain.

He pulled up the document on the PADD and scanned through the summary, feeling something hard settle in his gut. When he reached the conclusion, he understood completely, and the look on Bones' face told him that he knew the message had been received.

“I'm bringing this to you because I don't want to take it to the Admiralty yet.” Bones sighed and slumped a little, but Jim nodded. He stood up and circled the desk, positioning himself between Bones' knees and pulling him closer. He kissed him gently, hands cupping the edges of his jaw. He felt something in the other man relax and he kissed him harder.

“Leave it to me.” He murmured, pulling back to press a kiss to his forehead. Bones smoothed a hand down his arm, cupping his elbow briefly.

“Thank-you, Jim.” He kissed again briefly. “I'm taking off on time tonight.”

“Good. I'll see you at home. We can do something nice for dinner.” Jim smiled a little and Bones returned it.

It was a perk of the job, that the acting-Head of Starfleet Medical could slip something sideways instead of immediately upwards, but it's not like the abused their positions or their relationship. Jim had no qualms about taking this.

–

_Starfleet Medical has seen an increase in cadets seeking advice and counselling related to effects of their social interactions. Whilst many have found supportive networks of cadets in similar positions to themselves, there are some who remain vulnerable. There has also been an increase in reports of low mood, anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts related to the below demographic._

_The vast majority of those seen by the counselling services Starfleet offers appear to be cadets from non-standard entry streams: primarily mature entry cadets, and those with dependents. From anonymous analysis of cadet files and interviews with the counselling team, it has become clear that a key factor to this rise is the attitudes of the cadet population._

_It would appear that a significant segregation has occurred within the cadet population, and pending further investigation is attributed to discrimination by those from the historically typical entry stream._

Had Jim asked Bones for his opinion and conclusion in person, it would've sounded more like:

_Dammit Jim, we have a problem in our house, and it's those elitist, self-entitled shits. Our cadets are suffering, and it's the ones who most need our help._

–

It took Jim a little over a week to orchestrate his plan. He was under no illusions that the ring leaders would largely be command track. The nature of the personalities drawn to it made it almost certain, so that was where Jim would strike.

He accessed the full personnel files for third and fourth year command track and familiarised himself with every single one. He knew exactly how the the class would go, and that was the exact point that he wanted to impress upon the cohort.

It took another couple of weeks before Spock and Uhura's research mission came to an end, and he lined up a date where he could pull his masterclass into place. It fell on a Friday afternoon, which may have been a blessing in disguise, with people at their weariest and most carefree. If it went as it should, the message would be just that little bit more poignant.

Jim arrived early in the main hall, remembering all the academy lectures held there, his disciplinary for cheating the Kobyashi Maru, his relieving of Pike's captaincy. He remembered the memorial days and the briefings, the subdued graduation of his class as barely twenty percent were there to accept their commissions. The room was full of history that needed to be honoured.

Spock and Uhura arrived next, as the auditorium started to fill up. Predictably, the rows in the middle back were taken by the jocks, most of whom continued their conversations loudly, not noticing the growing atmosphere in the room. Some moved in a sat carefully to the edges, darting looks between themselves and the three officers standing at the front.

The hush and murmur started when the first of the cadets came in with a child. He was a fourth year, late-twenties, with a three year old girl. He sat at the front and on the edge, and Jim watched with some concern as he positioned himself directly between his daughter and the rest of the class. The stares and mutters weighed heavily, but grew as more people entered.

Jim had counted nearly fifty parents between his two classes, and as they entered, he observed. Some moved into existing groups, where the children were met with familiarity. One cluster to the right welcomed their friend and her two children as if it was just a normal day. More of them kept towards the front, and far too many acted like the first man. There was a wide curve of empty seats between those who first came in, and the last. He couldn't ignore the low level muttering and looks coming from the central group.

The sound of the door closing made Jim look up from the register on his PADD, which had been signing in each of the cadets as they entered. He nodded to Bones, who moved to stand in the corner with the other two. Jim signed off the roll call and moved front and centre.

Jim's class lists were always full. Since he'd first taken his dirtside commission, he'd had cadets lobbying for places in his classes, even three years later. His reputation preceded him, and in classes they hung off his words like they held the answer to everything. He had one of the highest approval ratings, and the lowest disciplinary record in the faculty. He was using all of that now.

“You may have noticed that today's class is going to be a little different.” He pulled up the holo behind him. “This isn't something I tend to do until later in the year, but I changed my mind for you lot. Today will cover an attack scenario and simulation, and I will be collecting results from all of you.”

He ignored the handful of smirks and and arrogant grins – as well as the concern from those towards the front – and launched straight into the brief.

He'd framed it around an event that the Enterprise had run into in the second year of their five year mission. Jim had found himself in a tight diplomatic situation with a race who had, until that point, been amenable to them. They were of a similar societal make-up, and at an equal level of advancement.

If Jim hadn't been able to think outside the box – if Bones hadn't equated the situation to his life before Starfleet, his divorce, the politics of Atlanta's intellectual elite – if Spock hadn't been able to translate those emotional connections into something logical – if Uhura hadn't trusted her atypical command crew – the Enterprise would have returned home gutted of her crew, if at all, and the planet's society would have been left in raging civil war.

As he detailed the scenario, he observed the cadets and their reactions. He noted, as the class moved on, the older of the children growing bored and starting to fidget. The younger children started to fuss, their parents and guardians quietly managing the situation. He saw a couple of those with infants multi-tasking rocking their little ones and taking notes. The cohort in the centre of the room shot the occasional annoyed look at at the various, minor disruptions, and Jim didn't miss the muttering that passed between them.

“On your PADDs you will find a breakdown of the alliance talks to date.” Jim gave no warning as he moved from briefing to simulation, but he noted the ripple of anticipation that ran through the room. He let them start to read through what they had, but then it was time for his friends to join the party.

“Commodore, we're being hailed by a separatist group.” Uhura announced, hands clasped behind her back.

“So what do you do?” Jim addressed the class. They were mirroring the digital simulation on their PADDs, to record their individual reactions. A suggestion was called out from the centre.

“Answer the hail to ascertain the intention.” Jim selects the option from his PADD which triggered the first band of options and set the simulation off proper.

“The group needs medical attention due to a lack of supplies in their region.” Uhura continues. The same cadet begins to reply, but at the press of Jim's fingers and a chain reaction of increasingly concerning events rattles through the scenario.

“Commodore, the government has taken offence to our interaction with the group. They demand further information.” Spock steps in, standing perfectly still near the wall.

“The separatist group claims they're under dictator rule and their leader is refusing talks with the government.” Uhura follows straight on, and the situation continues to evolve at light speed from Jim's PADD, and he can see the cadets in front of him scramble to keep up with it.

“We have reports of numerous civilian casualties from a retaliatory attack.” Bones speaks up from where he's sitting in the corner, and Jim catches his eye.

“The situation on the planet surface is developing and you must neutralise the damage to the alliance and to the population.” Jim moved back to rest against the edge of the lectern, watching them.

The scenario continued to develop, the other three calling out new trigger points and Jim manipulated the program to reflect their actions and reactions. He watched the furious concentration through the room, some conversing with each other, reasoning out decisions and their effects. He watched his cadets utilising all their brains, nerve and skill, demonstrating why the vast majority of them had been selected as command track.

It was impressive to see for the most part, but as the stakes shifted from purely political towards the moral and ethical, he started to notice the cracks in the armour. Bones had up the anti, was barking at them in much the same way he did in his sickbay, initiating one of the trademark debates he held with Spock over emotion and logic.

He bit back a smile at the familiar sight, watching the tension build in the room as the four of them chipped in and fired more things at the cadets.

Jim waited for the break point, for the moment where Spock had stepped back and acknowledged Bones' point for one of the first times, where he'd waded in and taken the best from both of them to formulate a plan of action. That wasn't the point of the class.

Instead, he set in place the end of the scenario, waiting for all the PADDs in the room to register and close the simulation.

“We're going to take a fifteen minute break. I expect everyone back in their seats and ready on time.” He didn't smile, didn't joke, just turned towards the others. Something hung in the atmosphere for the auditorium that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he was fairly sure he had their attention.

Jim went to sit by Bones, watching the faces of his class move away. A few stayed where they were, slumping into themselves, but most started to filter out. Those with children with them collected into small groups, likely those who had sought each other out for support. They just seemed a little worn out, their attention already back to the children with them.

Some of the cadets from the centre had moved out with near-mutinous looks on their faces, complaining under their breath – and Jim caught one young woman directing her annoyance at an older cadet with a four or five year old child, who fortunately rolled her eyes and moved away.

“I fail to see the importance of the cadets being their children to the class, Commodore.” Spock stood in front of Jim, face impassive.

“Impact, Spock.” He glanced down at his PADD as he started to run the results from the simulation through an algorithm against the cadet profiles. “We'll see if I was right in a few minutes. These kids need to realise that testing out of classes and graduating at the top of their class doesn't make them any better than the others.”

Bones stayed silent beside him, but leaned a little closer. His expression was drawn and thoughtful. He wanted to pull Bones closer and bury his face in the soft skin of his neck, but now was not the time. As the algorithm started to yield results, he passed the PADD to Bones to look through.

The doors to the bottom auditorium stood open, and Jim could see a huddle of older cadets and children standing around, chatting good naturedly as the children ran off a little energy. He wouldn't keep them long – an hour was already too long for many of the smaller ones – but he was glad to hear them unaffected by the tension that had developed.

They began to filter back in, most taking the same seats again, children being absorbed back into the cohort in a surprisingly natural way. The majority of the central block kept to themselves, but it was clear that there was more socialisation between the rest of them, even from their body language upon coming back in, and Jim was pleased to see that it was a stark majority who had integrated together.

Jim took his PADD back from Bones and moved back to the middle of the room.

“So that wasn't fun.” He began. He was going to be completely blunt with them. “I'm well aware that it was probably unfair to you all to throw something like that at you so soon into the year, but that wasn't just for effect.”

He looked around the room and threw up the analysis report to the overhead holo, showing the anonymised results of the simulation and the statistics.

“It's become clear to the faculty that there is a problem here in the academy, and it's one that needs to be addressed. From the behaviour of certain groups and individuals in this class, it's likely more widespread than we realised.” Jim folded his arms and surveyed the class, some of them already avoiding eye contact. “Elitism never ends well. Humanity has nearly torn itself apart on numerous occasions, and we're not immune to it even in this day and age.”

They'd received lectures on Tarsus IV barely a week ago, and he was able to tell the fourth years from the thirds as faces greyed in front of him. He'd gone into special detail with the fourth years, exposing some of the more sensitive details about the final days of the colony.

“These statistics are based on the results of your simulation against the percentage of success you achieved, your personal backgrounds and your current situation.” The class muttered a little, noting the shapes of the graphs, already trying to determine who was who. “On the whole, you dealt with the situation in much the same was as any inexperienced command crew might. However, many of you panicked and moved towards aggression alarmingly early in the scenario.”

He pulled up a chart detailing success rates alone, “Those who were most successful were those who considered all angles of the situation, who utilised diplomacy and logic to pacify the government whilst creating the opportunity to aid the the separatists, and doing all of that while limiting both your own and the planet's casualties.”

He revealed the key to chart. “As you can see, those who come from non-standard entry streams, on the whole, had greater success. Those who joined forces and used a variety of available skillsets had even better results. Those who puffed their egos and allowed themselves to become annoyed at the current situation were generally the least successful cohort.”

Jim stayed silent for a few moments as more muttering broke out. He watched as some looked harder at the group results he'd sent out to their PADDs, along with their personal results.

“At the end of the day, this was not carried out under perfect conditions. You had no preparation for the situation, particularly the inclusion of some of your fellow cadets' children, but that's how life goes. You don't get any warning when a situation like this happens out in the black. And if the distraction was the four of us at the front, you may want to reconsider your choice to serve on a starship at all.” Jim shrugged and considered them again.

“In the last decade, Starfleet has changed dramatically. We can no longer depend on the chosen few who move straight from their cosy AP classes to Starfleet boot camp, and they are no longer the perfect cadet. We took blow after blow, losing so much information and so much of our humanity, and we are fighting to make ourselves better.

“We need diversity of culture and experience if we are going to remain strong enough to do our duties as officers.” Jim put his PADD down. “There have been serious allegations of segregation and discrimination within the cadet community, and it boils down to smart young upstarts thinking themselves better than those around them.

“There are people in this room who have been subjected to petty and damaging behaviour, purely due to their backgrounds. Now more than ever, we have cadets in our midst who have come to Starfleet later in life. In this room alone, we have cadets who have multiple degrees, phDs, published research papers. We have cadets who are have spent their time caring for relatives, or raising children – and many of them doing so alone.

“They came to Starfleet to offer their service in protection of our planet and our federation, and they are met with this kind of childish bullshit?” Jim grit his jaw tightly, glaring particularly at the central cohort, who mostly had the grace to look ashamed or chagrinned. “All of you will receive an information packet at the end of the class detailing the histories of the Admiralty and currently serving captaincy. I suggest you all educate yourselves on the people who's orders you'll be taking.”

With his own meteoric rise through the ranks, what people forget is that he himself was older than most cadets, barring a handful of engineering and medical track. He didn't follow the traditional route, and most neither did his first officer or CMO. And as three of the most highly decorated officers in the 'fleet, it was important that they remembered Spock's breaking of all conventions, and Bones' last ditch application despite years of training, one and a half phDs and numerous surgical fellowships.

Jim turned, and made to dismiss the class before adding, as a last note, “And if I hear of any one of you continuing to support this attitude, I will not be so diplomatic with my interventions the next time the Head of Medical writes a report for the Admiralty. This is your one and only warning. Dismissed.”

He watched them file out, some scurrying out of the doors, some skulking. Some just looked curious, and he hoped those would be the ones to really look at the information he'd sent out. If nothing else, they needed to know who they were following into battle.

“That was definitely interesting.” Uhura smiled imperiously at him, but he smiled back. “I'm not going to be offended by the 'chosen few' comment.”

He snorted at that. “You're the poster-girl for direct graduation to entry, but we all know you worked your ass off for your uniform.”

“There are going to be quite a few parents not so happy with the swearing in front of their children, too.” She raised an eyebrow, but Jim smirked.

“Most of them like me enough not to do any lasting damage.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced over the emptying room.

A couple of kids were lingering towards the front, whispering to their parents and glancing over at him. One of the little girls, maybe only two, broke free and launched herself towards him. He stepped away from Uhura and met her half way, crouching down as she held out her fist and bumping it. She giggled and Jim grinned, shooting the mortified cadet staring at him and wink. He flushed an managed a smile back before Jim shuffled the little girl back in his direction.

The last of the cadets filtered out, and Spock and Uhura made their own excuses, leaving Jim and Bones alone in the hall.

“Think you got through to them?” Jim felt Bones step up to him, an arm sliding around his waist. Jim turned and leaned into him a little.

“Yeah. If nothing else, people will start standing up to it and crush the voice out themselves.” He ran his fingers through Bones' hair slightly and smiled. He remembered how hard it was for Bones at times back at the academy, being the oldest of their year's intake, he hatred for PT sessions and any class where it reminded him of just how much older he was.

It hadn't mattered that he was a father, a lauded research scientist and had been a genius in his field from his adolescence. It hadn't mattered that even at the academy, he'd spent most of his off hours pulling shifts at the infirmary. They'd only seen the age that Bones had etched into him.

“If this works, we should roll it out across other tracks and the lower years. Get the poison out before it takes the limb.” Bones let him go, putting a little distance between them for the moment. “You teaching anything else today?”

“Nope, all done for the weekend.” Jim grinned. Bones managed a knowing smile in reply. Jim leaned in and kissed him firmly before taking his hand and leading him from the room.

 


End file.
